


The Sharpest Lives

by Aphixxia



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Blood and Gore, Character Death, M/M, Past Character Death, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2018-08-29 17:49:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8499400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aphixxia/pseuds/Aphixxia
Summary: are the deadliest to leadThis is going to be my main story, kind of the reason I made this account, I'm FINALLY going to be uploading itMostly Ramsay POV, a bit of Theon POVStory starts in year 12, which is 16-17 year olds and is the first year of 6th form here in englandSet in modern day westeros, but I used the English schooling system as it makes the most sense to me





	1. Chapter 1

**R**

  
He was floating.  
Not floating as in on the surface of water, nagged by the constant worry of dipping just a little too far under the surface but floating as in up in the sky, maybe on a cloud. How he knew what a cloud felt like he hadn’t the faintest idea but he’d always imagined it like this, quiet and comfortable, somewhere that even the thoughts running amok in his head quietened themselves. That’s what his therapist had told him all those years ago, to “try and control your anger Ramsay, go to a quiet place”. That’s what she had said which irked him so because how would she know, the woman who’d spent years learning about the kind of problems he had and so was utterly desensitized to his emotional outbursts. She would look over her glasses at him, always remembering what she’d learnt in school about people like him, he was her perfect guinea pig. Yes, what that privileged bitch could ever know, he had wondered for years, but his mind did often return to thinking about her so called quiet place he supposedly had to find. But now perhaps her words made perfect sense, maybe he had found what he was looking for, maybe…  
But even as the thought passed his mind, he could hear an odd noise, out of place, grating. He opened his eyes to take a look and immediately shut them again, for whatever was out there stung his eyes and made his body feel heavy. As the noise grew louder, his body felt heavier and heavier until soon he remembered that he was still on earth, exactly where he had fallen asleep the night before. It was his phone alarm that was making that obnoxious racket that had disturbed him so and he was not best pleased about that, not at all. Unpleasant though it was to be unceremoniously torn from cloudland and plonked back on the earth, dazed and confused on a grey September morning, he reached over for his phone alarm, turned it off and stretched out. Heck, there had been worse wakeups than this one, still remaining fresh in his mind was the memory from last year of waking up in the hospital to the overwhelming feeling of nausea, still hooked up to an IV with the taste of far too many painkillers lingering on his tongue, and seeing his brothers tired worried face with an expression of ‘what have you done?’ upon it. He knew that he would not forget the events of that day, or how sick he’d been for the rest of the month in a long time, no matter how he tried.  
As he lay in bed, attempting to gather his thoughts and push the negative ones away there came a voice from outside his room, a monotonous voice that plainly said that the owner had better things to be doing with his time. “Wake up Ramsay” the voice said. “You’ve got school today and I will not have you miss anymore”. A slight pause and “I won’t ask again”. There was never any affection or kindness in Roose Bolton’s voice, even if he happened to be singing your praises from the rooftops. The thought of Roose ever singing was laughable to most people, least of all Ramsay. He almost bit back with a sarcastic reply, but he wasn’t in the mood to mess with his father again, especially since the hour was so early.  
He sat up, irritation settling over him like a dark cloud. Monday morning, what an absolute drag. School was one of his least favourite places to be, his education a much lower priority that it should have been for someone his age. Not that he cared of course; he had better things, much better things to spend his time on. He would stay at school for as long as legally necessary and then…well he really had no idea. Looking at his phone, he saw it was now 8:06 and he had shit to do, so he reluctantly sat up and got out of bed.

After he’d dressed and slouched halfway down the stairs, he spotted his brother Domeric walking out of the front door. Well technically speaking, he was Ramsay’s half-brother, but Ramsay never mentioned either of their mothers, not wanting to be reminded that Domeric was born of a well-respected woman who sadly passed of a terminal illness and his mother was a drug addict who had died on a council estate, with a needle in her arm and a crying child wondering why his mummy wasn’t waking up.  
Domeric didn’t start class for another hour and it only took him 15 minutes to drive to the university campus from their house, why was he so quick to leave? “Leaving so soon?” Ramsay enquired, reaching the bottom of the stairs and dropping his bag. “Morning Ramsay” Domeric replied “I’m going to the library early, need the additional physics book before class. See ya later bro”. And before Ramsay could reply, he had given him a winning smile and walked out of the door, a spring in his step despite the early hour and damp chill in the air. Of course, the perfect brother to a tee, thought Ramsay bitterly, already at the pinnacle of academic achievement and now practically dancing out the door. Ramsay and Domeric couldn’t be more any more different. Sure they had the same dark hair and pale eyes, like all their family had, but in terms of how they kept themselves, you’d never think they were related, let alone brothers. Domeric was a straight A student, in his last year of University. He played multiple sports and the guitar. He was kind and friendly. He was attractive, all the girls wanted him, yet he somehow wasn’t tempted away from his girlfriend of 3 years, Lyanna. He was also very popular and constantly had people around him, wherever he was. He looked the part too, with his clean ironed clothes, sneakers without a trace of mud or dirt and not a hair out of place. Everything Ramsay wanted, but never had. He had copied his brother to a tee the moment he hit 12, stealing his father’s credit card to buy expensive clothing but try as he might, not matter how fancily he dressed, people noticed his “bad blood” as Roose described it, that nasty streak that he couldn’t grow out of, his rudeness, his knack of winding people up, pushing people to their limits. It wasn’t a surprise he’d learnt how to fight at a young age. It wasn’t until he’d turned 15 that he realized enough was enough and he was just going to do what he wanted, fuck anyone who thought otherwise. And it had worked; in just 2 years he’d gone from the sad, lonely outcast whom everyone laughed at and ostracized to the person people were scared to even make eye contact with. He had friends, friends just as nasty as himself, but he still felt like nothing next to his brother.

 

*******************

  
Half an hour later, Ramsay arrived at his school. He looked at it and groaned internally, WHY did he have to attend this dump? The lessons were boring, the food was shit, and frankly, the only good part about it was seeing his friends and fucking around with people. Deep in thought about how to mess with his uptight math teacher in first period, he walked straight into another boy standing by the school gates. Feeling the irritation rise up immediately he opened his mouth to say something, or rather shout at this guy to get the fuck out of the way. Unfortunately he had turned around to see what had bumped him and Ramsay’s threats somehow died before he even managed to say them. What was this, he’d never had problems cussing anyone out before, not even small children or hot girls he was trying to impress. But this one random guy, who’d he’d never seen before made him completely shut up. What was going on? Trying to kick his brain into gear, he attempted a glare and his usual “get the fuck out of my way” but ended up blinking stupidly. “In my way” he said, before realizing how stupid he looked and sounded. There was a brief pause, in which they exchanged looks, one amused, and the other embarrassed. Ramsay decided not to cause any more awkwardness, and dodged past the boy, ignoring the amused look sent his way and walked up to the school door, cursing under his breath.

**T**

  
Theon still felt amused. As if he’d just gotten in the way of the scariest motherfucker in the school and gotten away without so much as a scratch or threat! Theon had never spoken to Ramsay, but he knew of him, Ramsay Bolton, the kid who’d beat up anyone who looked at him the wrong way, screamed abuse at teachers and was in and out of the head of year’s office all week. Theon was pretty sure their head of year was sick to shit of him terrorizing other students and just generally behaving like an asshole. He’d also heard stories of when Ramsay was in primary school, of him hurting other kids, killing small animals for fun and one account of him pushing someone out of a 2 story window, although Theon wasn’t sure how true that was. And he had gotten in this scary ass psycho’s way and nothing happened? Something was afoot, thought Theon rubbing his hand over his head like he did when he was thinking. As much as he’d heard bad stories about Ramsay, Theon was somehow curious about him. He was too curious for his own good, his best friend and foster brother Robb had told him, but what was the point in life without curiosity? And it wasn’t like he hadn’t had his fair share of delinquency; after all, no one was perfect.

**R**

  
Ramsay had just got to form and sat in his usual place right at the back, with his friends Myranda, Damon, Dick and Alyn, who were just as nasty and messed up as he was. He hung out with a few more people outside his school, but they were either older or had dropped out, the only people he really liked at his school were those three; everyone else was ‘a bunch of fucking cunts’ in his eyes. “Heya Ramsay” sang Myranda as he sat down “get up to much this weekend?” Ramsay shook his head. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why she ever asked. If he wasn’t out with her and their group, he was at his house, doing jack shit. Myranda, on the other hand loved to go out and get fucked up at illegal raves. Ramsay had attended a few, and while he’d be the first to admit that they were a lot of fun, he couldn’t see himself doing that every weekend, the novelty would soon wear off, he was sure.  
Turning his head to face the front, he spotted that kid from this morning come in through the door. The kid looked around for a short while, and eventually walked across the room and took the empty seat directly in front of the desk Ramsay and Myranda shared. He sat down and turned his head to the side, giving Ramsay a cheeky smirk. Ramsay blinked. Who the hell was this guy anyway? Most people wouldn’t even give him the time of day, or were just plain scared of him, yet this guy…he didn’t seem to give two shits about him or his reputation. Looking at him closer, he was quite good looking, with dark hair and a nice smile, but there was also an air of arrogance and daring about him. “Hey” he said “sorry for getting in your way this morning, I’m such a ditz”. Don’t talk to him Ramsay, said that voice whose sole purpose was seemingly to keep him isolated. Tell him to fuck off, to don’t even think about talking to him, but somehow, he just ignored that, merely nodding in acceptance. He felt his heart rate elevate slightly as the boy smiled at him, he had perfect teeth. The boy continued to speak “I’m Theon by the way, Theon Greyjoy. I would ask your name, but I know all about you.” At this, Ramsay raised his eyebrows. This ‘Theon’ was intriguing him, to say the least. Regaining his composure he replied. “You know all about me? And yet I know nothing about you, aside from your name” challenged Ramsay, smirking slightly. Yes, he was intrigued; he had to find out more about Theon.  
Unfortunately, their brief conversation was cut short by their teacher walking in the door. Upon her entrance, Theon stood up and went to the front of the classroom. Ramsay watched him, still itching to find out more: how had he never seen him before, why was he in their class now, but their teacher answered his question for him, just as the thought crossed his mind. “Good morning students” chirped their teacher, far too happily “I should let you know there is a new student in the class and his name is Theon Greyjoy”. With a gesture towards Theon, standing on her left side, she continued. “As many of you know, our class is slightly smaller due to multiple students moving schools” at this she shot a brief pointed glance at the corner of the classroom where Myranda and Ramsay sat. It was probably justified; after all, Ramsay and his group had bullied some students so badly that they had to transfer schools. Ramsay, leaning back in his seat, returned her glare with an insolent smirk, and he was sure Myranda had done the same. The teacher continued “He’s come from another class, and I’m sure you will ALL (another pointed glance at Ramsay) make him feel very welcome”. Oh trust me, thought Ramsay, I will. Perhaps school this year wouldn’t be so boring after all.

  
***************************

  
Ramsay had resigned himself to the fact that he never should have gone to this party. It was the party of a girl he vaguely knew, Bethany. He only went because he thought it was possible to crash the party, seeing as Alyn and Damon said they were going to be there. But alas, they had pulled out and Ramsay was stuck on his own. So, he’d decided to stay for a couple hours and drink as much of the girl’s alcohol as humanly possible. It wasn’t as if he liked her, so felt no guilt as he drank his way through various alcopops, even managing to score a bottle of expensive looking champagne from a locked (now broken by his hand) cupboard. It didn’t taste great, but it was expensive and gave him a nice buzz, so he hung onto it. Plus it was far better than that nasty tasting neon blue mixture he’d been drinking before.  
Honestly, this party was really terrible, he though for the tenth time, looking around him. There were a few people from his school and the rest was made up by people who looked like they never left their houses, people with obnoxious hair colours, stupid fake glasses and weird hipster clothing. The few that knew him were giving him sideways glances, nervous one. Perhaps they thought he’d start something. Ramsay almost felt inclined to, but honestly, he was too tired for that kind of thing right now. He’d have to crush their expectations. Rolling his eyes and thinking vaguely about calling Domeric for a lift home, he turned round and saw Theon standing a short distance from him. A smile instantly appearing on his face and with a new reason to stay he stood from his place on the couch and walked over to Theon casually. He’d been chatting to Theon over the past week and not only was he a charming guy, he also had a good chunk of defiance in him too. The thought of making someone like that his practically made Ramsay salivate, all the girls and boys he’d ‘dated’ in the past were so meek, so willing to submit, no challenge at all. The only person who could keep up with him was Myranda, and they were nothing more than friends with benefits. But Theon, no, Theon was a whole different story. As he approached, Theon turned to face him. He noted that Theon looked a little stressed, even as he greeted Ramsay, his voice sounded a little strained. “Oh hi Ramsay” he said, his eyes darting off to the sides a bit “didn’t expect to see you here”.  
This was quite weird; Theon definitely had his mind on something else. Curious, Ramsay narrowed his eyes and was about to ask what the problem was when it became apparent in the form of a short, squat girl appearing out of thin air and grabbing onto Theon’s arm. Ramsay raised an eyebrow. The girl looked about a year or two younger than them, and was not a pretty sight. She had black hair with obviously fake clip in multi coloured extensions, was wearing an anime t-shirt and for some strange reason, a lime green tutu. To complete this ridiculous ensemble, she also had striped tights, the sort you buy for Halloween, multiple plastic necklaces and hairclips. Ramsay cringed internally; who the fuck thought that get up was a good look? The overall effect was made much worse when she talked however. “Theoooon, found you!” she squealed in an attempt at a cute voice, missing it by miles and ending up sounding like a 8 year old with a blocked nose. “I couldn’t find you senpai”. Ramsay, who was taking a drink out of the bottle of champagne choked. Senpai? Really? Was this really happening, or was it his drunken state? “ooh is this your friend?” the girl said, stupidly tilting her head to the side “I’m Sophia, I really like Theon, he likes anime too!” And with that she had pulled poor Theon into a tight hug. He had on a look of pure embarrassment, a combination of being seen with this Sophia and second hand embarrassment for her. “Well, Sophia, this is Ramsay, he’s my…boyfriend”.  
Ramsay almost choked again, boyfriend??? He realized quickly, after glancing at Theon that he was only saying that to get weeaboo of the year away from him, as she was clearly far too interested. He could see the pleading look Theon had in his eyes, silently begging Ramsay to just go with it. With a slight smirk, Ramsay was all too happy to comply. “Yeah, we’ve been dating a month now” he said, grabbing Theon round the waist and pulling him near, whilst giving the girl a subtle “back off” look. She no longer had any part to play in this situation. Sophie, or whatever the fuck her name was. She looked shocked for a minute but then her face suddenly split into a huge grin. “OH EM GEEEE” she giggled, making Theon wince at the high pitched tone of hers “you guys are SO kawaii”. Oh fuck, she was into that, she looked creepy-fangirly enough. Ramsay had had enough. He could see that Theon looked very confused. Ramsay, rounded on her “What, you wanna get your fucking camera or something? Take a fucking picture? Want me to fuck him right here him for your sick fantasies? Do you? DO YOU?” The girl managed to stutter out a few syllables and Ramsay feigned a look of disgust and shock. “Did…did you just say yes? Fucking hell, you sick cunt” he snorted, turning to Theon. “Right, lets blow this joint” he said, winking, grabbed his hand, dragged him out the front door and down the street to the nearest bus stop.  
They stopped under the overhang; Theon immediately sat down on the yellow plastic seats, bent his head down and ran his hands through his hair. Ramsay felt a sudden stab of anxiety. What if he’d taken things too fast? After all, they had spoken, but they were only sort-of-friends at a push. Had Ramsay just fucked up his plan? Oh god, oh god what now? As he stood there, wondering if he should say something, he heard a giggle. Theon lifted his head back, a smile on his face. “Close one there” he grinned sheepishly “Sorry I dropped that one on ya, I never know how to handle people without offending then.” He paused, grinning. “Don’t think you do though” at which Ramsay scoffed internally “Anyway, thanks for going along with it. I actually thought for a moment I’d have to kiss you” he said, laughing as if it was a joke, but Ramsay could see that look in his eye, like he was debating whether to wink or not. Well then, this was going as well as he could hope for so far. Ramsay stretched his arms over his head and looked up at the digital display inside the bus stop. Good, it was only half 9, the night was still young. “So, Theon. Do you by any chance want to come back to mine and play that game I was telling you about on Friday?”

  
****************************

  
Much later, the two teenagers found themselves in Ramsay’s bedroom, Theon seated on the floor, Ramsay next to him, laying on his bed, with a controller in his hands and an expression of concentration. Ramsay was a pretty sore loser, and usually lost his temper when someone beat him at anything. But Theon was someone he was interested in, he told himself, and he needed to keep his chill. As his character died in a hail of bullets sent his way by Theon’s he dropped the controller and buried his head into the duvet with an irritated groan. His father was out, as was Domeric. Walda was probably in the house somewhere, but Ramsay didn’t care to check. She was an odd creature, that one, very shy and overweight. When his father had first started dating her, Ramsay had made the mistake of comparing her to a whale to which Roose had responded by slapping him so hard he’d seen stars. He’d learnt to never make the mistake of insulting the woman that Roose called his partner again. Or at least within earshot of his father. Theon giggled from his position on the floor “that’s 2-1 to me dude” he laughed, as Ramsay shook his head and groaned. Theon was good, he had to admit, beating him twice at his favourite game. Tonight had been fun, eating frozen pizza and playing videogames, just like when he was a kid, hanging out with his brother. Theon twisted his head round and looked at the clock. “well it’s half 11, I should be getting back home” he said. Ramsay, playing with a loose string on his sleeve and not really paying attention, nodded. “I’ll walk you back if you want” he offered casually, only seemingly noticing what he’d said after he said it and looking worried that he’d gone too far again. Luckily Theon only smiled in response. “yeah” he nodded, “I’d like that”.  
Theon lived with the Starks, fostered when he was 6 years old. This, they had in common. At age 6, Ramsay had been removed from the care of his mother and placed in the custody of his father, Roose Bolton. He had been an unruly child, wild, untamed and living off a diet consisting of McDonald’s chicken nuggets and fries, until Roose had a say in the matter. He had managed to get the child to learn how to behave himself and eat a diet that wasn’t full of E numbers. And he had persevered too, no matter how much Ramsay cried and screamed and slammed doors and threw tantrums and told him to go fuck himself. For this, Ramsay felt grateful deep down. At least he wasn’t as big of a fuckup as he could have been. As, they walked up the front door of the Stark house, Ramsay noted its size. Ramsay’s house was a pretty big, as his father was a top lawyer and brought in a good salary. However, Eddard Stark was chief of police for the entire county and had a very large house. To be fair, he did have a big family; his wife Catelyn, his sons Robb, Bran and Rickon, his daughters Sansa and Arya, his adopted son Jon, Theon and 6 large dogs. He was a good, fair and just chief of police and many people liked him.  
They stopped at the front door, Theon turned to face Ramsay. “I had a fun night man, we should do it again sometime” smiled Theon. He was always smiling. Ramsay nodded in response “We should. But don’t think I’ll go easy on you next time we play call of duty”. Theon smirked and punched him lightly in the shoulder “yeah right, like you were going easy”. Ramsay rolled his eyes, amused “Well anyway, I have to be getting back, I’ll see you around yeah?” And he pulled Theon into a hug, in a moment of impulse. He knew Theon liked hugs anyway? It was only a quick one. As he went to let go, Theon tightened his grip slightly, not wanting Ramsay to let go. Ramsay rested his head on Theon’s shoulder, breathing in the smell of his hair. It smelled like the sea. They leant away slightly, looking at each other still.  
Ramsay felt nervous; his plans all depended on this moment. He thought for a moment, then decided it was as good a time as any and kissed Theon as gently as he could. He wasn’t used to this. Feeling an urge to bite, like he always did, but held back, reminding himself that he had to be patient this time. He felt Theon kiss him back. This was going even better than he’d planned. Elated, he thought about taking it further, but at that moment the door swung open. They both jumped apart instantly, as if electrocuted and looked in opposite directions. The person who opened the door turned out to be Robb, Theon’s 15 year old foster brother. He was Ned Stark’s oldest son and although in the year below them, yet was probably more mature then the two of them put together. He eyed them both suspiciously. Theon laughed and scratched the back of his head, like he did when he was nervous. “Erm…well…I’ll see you around then” he said, looking at Ramsay for a moment, as if he still had something he wanted to say. Before Ramsay could register this, he had scooted past Robb and into the house. By this point, Ramsay thought it best that he just leave. As he did so, he locked eyes with Robb. Knowing all too well that general air of dislike that he could feel emanating from the younger boy, he turned away. He knew why, Robb was an observant person, unlike Theon. Robb probably knew what he’d done in the past, heard stories and saw right through him now. But it wasn’t Robb he was after, it was Theon. Poor impressionable Theon who just wanted everyone to like him. Ramsay smirked to himself as he exited the gate outside the Stark residence. He wondered how things would play out now.

 

**T**

  
“I’d watch out for him if I were you” stated Robb, leaning on the wall. Theon looked at him and smiled. Robb wasn’t only his foster brother, but also his best friend. Theon trusted his advice, for he was much more sensible that Theon ever could be. “Well, he seems pretty nice” Theon said shrugging. “And besides. If he starts acting weird I’ll ditch him, I promise”. Robb looked as if he had something else to add but Theon, not wanting any trouble, turned and walked away. He could feel Robb’s disapproving stare on the back of his head all the way down the corridor, up the stairs and into his bedroom. Sighing, Theon sat down, deep in thought. Robb was a smart guy, he could see right through people and pinpoint their real intentions but…Ramsay was different. He was so charming and kind. He wouldn’t hurt me, Theon thought to himself.  
Although that sense of unease, buried so far down that he could barely reach it, remained.

 

****************************

  
**R**

  
Ramsay sat on the sofa in his living room, feet on the coffee table, stuffing his face with grilled cheese. Domeric was next to him, eating his own food as most people would, but compared to Ramsay, who ate like he was constantly on the verge of starvation, Domeric looked very civilised. Ramsay was engrossed a TV show when the screen switched off. Disgruntled, Ramsay tried to exclaim “Who the hell did that?” but it came out completely inaudible, as his mouth was still full of bread, melted cheese, dill pickle and ketchup. Only Ramsay would dip grilled cheese sandwiches in ketchup, thought Domeric. Roose Bolton, who was responsible for the televisions abrupt shut off gave his son a look halfway between disgust and exasperation. “Would it kill you to empty your mouth before speaking?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Walda, who had trailed in behind him, clutched Roose’s arm. She looked happy, Ramsay noticed, without the usual nervous air she had when she was forced to spend time around him. Roose cleared his throat. “Walda and I have something to tell you. It’s an important decision that will affect both of you.” Domeric looked politely curious, whilst Ramsay fidgeted nervously. Oh god, what now? Had they decided to send him and Domeric to some boarding school for good? Or perhaps Walda was planning to move some of her enormous family in with them. That would really suck, sharing things with some random stranger, and a family member of Walda’s at that. “As you know, Walda and I went out for dinner last night and I proposed.” As he took a small pause, Walda interjected. “And I said yes!” she exclaimed happily, holding up her hand with an engagement ring on the ring finger. Normally Roose would have been very displeased at such an interruption, but he only gave his fiancée slight hint of a smile, possibly the most he could manage. For Roose to smile at you, you knew you’d done something right. Ramsay remembered the day that Domeric had come home with his GCSE results, 10 straight A*’s. Roose had looked the proudest that Ramsay had ever seen him, and he had even awarded Domeric one of his rare smiles. Roose had never smiled at Ramsay, not even once. He’d never done well academically and the only thing he was good at was getting into trouble. Staring ahead of him at the blank tv, he swallowed the mouthful of food he’d been chewing, listening vaguely to Walda blabbering on about her bridesmaids and the colour scheme and the flowers and all that bollocks. He rolled his eyes, dreading the upcoming months more than ever.  
A ding from his phone distracted him from the current state of affairs and he glanced at it. It was a text from Theon. It read “so…what are we now? Haha :)” Ramsay smirked at this, at Theon’s obvious keenness, yet his nervous approach. This, he could easily exploit. He replied “you tell me ;)”. Keeping it short. Ding, another message. All this one said was “you know what I want ;) ”. He smiled even wider and leant back against the sofa cushions. He’d made a good choice with Theon, that much was certain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bit shorter than the one before im afraid  
> next will be longer :)

**December**

  
Slumping in his seat, Ramsay looked down at his phone. 3:05, only 5 minutes since he checked last. He was bored out of his skull, forced to sit in this freezing church with all these people he didn’t know or like, watching his dear father get married. 90% of the church was made up of Walda’s family, which consisted of loud, whiny kids, pregnant women and drunkard men. And then there was Walda’s creepy grandfather, Walder and his new wife. It’s like he has a new trophy wife on his arm everytime I see him thought Ramsay, idly staring up at the carved wooden ceiling. The droning of the priest was sending him to sleep and the faint sniffs of the few sentimental characters behind him irritated him further. He felt eyes upon him and looked forwards towards the front, where his father was giving him a warning glance out of the corner of his eye. With a sigh, Ramsay sat up straight and made it look like he was paying attention. He took another glance at his phone. 3:06. Sighing, Ramsay slumped back down and leant his head back, resting it on the back of the pew, not really caring if his father saw. The ceiling was high and decorated, with ornate detailing along the high arches. A beautiful place, Ramsay thought, yet such ugly people.  
What a long day this was turning out to be.

 

**Christmas**

 

Rolling over, Ramsay squinted at his phone screen, wincing when it lit up. 11:24, he knew his family would be up already. He had stayed in bed longer, having gotten drunk and high with his friends the night before. Well he had a reason, it had been Christmas eve after…wait, Christmas eve yesterday? That meant that today was…  
Cursing, he swung his legs out of bed and stood up, quickly sitting down again after the head rush hit him and he had a coughing fit. Just how much did he smoke last night? His throat was dry and his cough was getting worse. He sounded like Walda’s ancient dad and felt like it too. After the coughing and dizziness had subsided he grabbed the bottle of water he kept by his bed and took a gulp from it. Bracing himself, he stood again, ignoring the hangover headache and ambled into the bathroom, attached to his room. It wasn’t a big bathroom, but it had a shower, sink, and toilet and that was all he really needed. All of the bedrooms in his house had en suite” bathrooms in. He showered himself off, attempting to cleanse himself of the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke. After he had showered, he returned to his room, found some clean clothes, a grey tshirt and black jeans. Rubbing his damp hair one last time with the towel, he looked in the mirror. Why did he look so bad? He was 17, the substance abuse shouldn’t make him look like that? Briefly considering sobriety, he decided that this was going to be the most presentable he would be today and walked downstairs. Expecting his irate father to be waiting for him and just what time do you call this Ramsay, it’s not hard to get up on time and where were you last night anyway, you reek of alcohol, I can still smell it on you, but as he approached the bottom of the stairs, he heard gentle laughter and talking from the living room. He looked around the corner and could hear his father speaking in a light voice, so unlike his usual cold, stern tone. Walda was cuddled up next to him, still in a dressing gown and Domeric was there too, wearing a Santa hat. They were talking amongst themselves and it looked like none of them had remembered that he even existed. He stood for a moment, wondering if he should announce himself, but decided not to. He felt a stab of sadness and rejection, they were his family, yet they didn’t miss him, and they probably didn’t want him there anyway. No one ever wanted him around. It was stupid…but he could feel a familiar depression settle over him. He walked upstairs with the intent to return to his room. He’d leave them alone until later.

 

**January**

  
It was only a week before they went back to school and Ramsay felt he’d wasted a lot of time. He’d been largely ignored by his father, who preferred to spend time with his new wife. He took her to art museums, out to dinner, to fancy jazz clubs, paid for all her clothes shopping…the list was endless. Ramsay thought that her grandfather must be very pleased at how much money Roose was giving her. Domeric had been alright as he usually was, him and Ramsay had hung out a few times, played the ps4, but Domeric was busy most of the time. So Ramsay had spent most of his time seeing his friends, getting into trouble, drinking in the grocery store parking lot at 2 am and one time, getting driven home at 4 in the morning by a cop after he had been found passed out on the sidewalk. Roose had gone mental, saying that he was grounded until March, but Ramsay had done his usual trick of getting under his dad’s feet so much, that he had been told to get out the house. Worked every time. He’d kept in close contact with Theon, building the trust that Theon had in him. He’d already asked a few ‘favours’ of Theon, and he had complied with them all without question. He was an obedient person, so long as his trust was gained, but Ramsay felt things were moving too slow.  
At the moment, he was sitting with Myranda and Damon in a park alongside some older kids they knew from the skatepark. None of them skated anymore but it was always fun to go and sell the year 9’s bags of oregano pretending it was weed.  
“You seen Theon recently?” asked Myranda, out of nowhere  
She’d been thinking about it for a while. She was jealous of him, even though her and Ramsay had only dated once, which lasted two weeks and ended with a pot plant thrown at his head, they were still friends with benefits; he needed to get laid once in a while and she needed someone to fuck while she was high. They were both just as rough as each other; perhaps that’s why they always found each other drawn together.  
As she said that, Ramsay’s phone rang and of course it was Theon. Ignoring Myranda, he answered it. He saw her bite her lip and look away as he did so.  
“Sup?”  
“Hey Rams, what’s up?”  
“Ah, not much, just chillin... you know? Come hang out with us?”  
“I dunno, I should be doing-“  
“No, come down now”  
There was a pause and then Theon replied  
“Urm…sure. Need to get out of the house for a bit anyway.” His voice dropped “Robb’s been at me all day.”  
Knew it. “Were in our usual spot, see you soon” and he hung up, not bothering to wait for a reply.

About 20 minutes later, Theon turned up, looking worried. Ramsay went to meet him, hooking his finger through the other teens belt loop and pulling him in close.  
“Ugh, quit making out or get a room” yelled Damon jokingly, which was ignored by both parties. Ramsay liked Theon’s company, more than he’d ever admit, they often stayed over at Ramsay’s and fuck or they’d just stay up all night and smoke weed, talking about everything and nothing.  
Theon moved away, causing Ramsay to raise his eyebrows in questioning. “Robb doesn’t think I should see you” Theon blurted out “Says you control me…” He tailed off, staring at the ground as if he wanted Ramsay to say that it wasn’t true and prove him right in the argument he’d surely just left.  
Ramsay wrapped an arm around his shoulders and started walking back to the group. “Well I think he’s not used to you having someone else that’s not him” he said.  
“I’m no kid anymore” muttered Theon, more to himself than anyone else.  
“I know. The Starks are holding you back.”  
Theon turned to look at Ramsay “What…I mean yeah, they’re a little overbearing at times but they…they do it because they care about me.”  
Ramsay sighed. “Don’t forget Theon, you’re only a foster kid. Once you move out you’ll never hear from them again.” Theon stared at the ground biting his lip. Putting his hands on the other teen’s shoulders Ramsay continued, smiling. “You’ll have me though, so it won’t matter. Doubt my dad will want to know me once I’ve moved out anyway. Were the same, you and me”  
With that, he continued walking back to his group of friends, seeing that they were rolling up a joint.  
Theon sighed and went after him, shoulders slumped. Ramsay was right, he was just a foster kid. Why should the Starks care about him? He’d been through the same situation with his birth family, now lost to him. Why should this be any different? He could trust Ramsay though.


	3. Chapter 3

 

**September – New school year**

**Ramsay**

It wasn’t that this was stupid, but this was really stupid. Slamming his fist on the table in front of him he glared at his teacher.

“What do you mean-“he paused to draw breath and calm down before he continued “that I have to drop History as a subject?”

His teacher, a squat, grey haired woman in her late 50’s worriedly stared past his left ear, unable to meet his icy blue eyes.

“Look, Ramsay, it’s been decided you’ll do better in your other subjects if you drop one” She stated, in an attempt to sound authoritative. “And you got the lowest grades in History, so your teacher and I agreed that it would be best for your education and well-being.”

Ramsay ground his teeth in irritation. “Only because I didn’t have enough time to finish that last essay. I was supposed to get extra time anyway, why the hell did that not happen? And ‘well-being’? You people don’t care about any student’s well-being, as long as they make to grades that’ll make your shit school look better.”

The teacher looked down at her desk and up again, looking flustered. She twisted her hands together and stammered a few syllables, turning red as if it was taking all her energy to stutter at him like a moron. This was going nowhere; he was wasting his time, to be sure.

“Fine then” he hissed in anger. Turning round, he wrenched the door open and stormed out, making sure to slam said door shut on his way out. Storming down the corridor, he could hear the sound of Myranda’s footsteps coming after him, and Theon’s pathetic scurry. He felt like turning round and punching Theon in the face just to relieve some tension, but he was in school, and he’d rather not get in any more trouble. Reaching the end of the corridor and turning left he entered the recreational centre for the upper two school years. Flopping down in a chair he leant forward, his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. Myranda sat next to him and gave him a playful poke. “Didn’t go as planned Ramsay? Told you she’d fuck you around.”

Ramsay clenched his fist. The only subject he’d actually enjoyed in his entire school life and he was being forced to drop it? Now what was he left with? Art and fucking Social Studies? Great, just great. Feeling a buzz in his pocket he pulled out his phone to see a text from ‘Dad’. Frowning, he unlocked his phone to read the message. Roose never texted him unless it was important, and even when it was, the messages were very short.

“In hospital. Baby is here.” It read. Well, to the point as always dad, thought Ramsay, locking his phone, neglecting to reply.

To be honest, he’d forgotten about the baby entirely, he never spent time around Walda or his dad, if he could help it. If he felt pushed out before, it was going to be so much worse after this baby came along. He’d been previously thinking along the lines of getting his dad to go to the school and get them to back down and let him continue History, but it was doubtful that his father would help him out, made even less likely now he had a new baby to look after.

Fed up completely, he stood up and grabbed Theon, who had been sitting next to him. He didn’t protest anymore, not after last time, when Ramsay had given him a black eye and two broken fingers. That one had been hard to lie about, Theon had said that he was playing a rough game of football. They’d been dating officially since late November and since then Theon had been slowly distancing himself from the Starks. Of course, it wasn’t his fault, as is the way with emotional; and physical abuse by a spouse. Ramsay was quickly becoming the only person Theon trusted- trusted in the most fucked up sense of the word and that suited Ramsay just fine.

Myranda gave them a glance as Ramsay dragged Theon out of the room and smirked, returning to playing on her phone. “Ramsay, wait-“Theon tried to say but was cut off by a gasp of pain, as Ramsay gripped his arm tighter. Pulling a door open, going down a small flight of stairs and turning a corner, they ended up round the back of the school, near where all the metal dumpsters were. Ramsay slammed Theon into the closest one, perhaps harder than he’d intended, given his current mood. Theon had tears in his eyes. Already? Thought Ramsay. It excited him, knowing the power he held over the other boy, the fear in Theon’s eyes whenever Ramsay lost his temper or even sent a threatening look his way. He could feel the tension in his chest beginning to unwind already.

Stepping closer to Theon, Ramsay grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back, despite the whimpers of protest. Turning his head round, he bit Theon on the side of the neck, hard. He didn’t care if anyone saw the marks, he wanted everyone to know Theon was his, and his only.

Hearing the slam of the door, Ramsay whipped round, releasing Theon, who cowered over like a whipped dog. The door slammer, turned out to be…Robb fucking Stark. His eyes swept the scene before meeting Ramsay’s eyes, glaring at him. Ramsay had to hand it to him, no one ever met his eyes, but he was far too annoyed to even contemplate that.

“What the fuck are you giving me stink eye for Stark?” sneered Ramsay. The kid wasn’t even in their year, what the hell could he do?

Robb regarded him coldly before replying in a tone equally as icy. “I was just wondering, is that your blood or Theon’s on your teeth?”

Ramsay ran his tongue across his front teeth and tasted the familiar coppery taste. Hm.He hadn’t meant to bite Theon that hard, but he didn’t care.

“Theon” said Robb, still glaring at Ramsay. “You’re bleeding, come back inside?”

“Like fuck he is” snorted Ramsay. “He’s staying right here”

Ignoring him, Robb repeated himself. “Theon, come back inside” he said calmly. “It’ll be fine”.

Ramsay leant back and smirked, Theon would stay, and he knew it. He had to, he knew what would happen if he didn’t.

However, much to his dismay, Theon walked past him and to Robb. Robb finally broke his stupid staring contest and walked with Theon back over to the door. Ramsay, although enraged by Theon’s actions, forced himself to wait exactly where he was. He knew Theon would have to look at him again, and sure enough, he did. Ramsay gave him a look that he was sure Theon knew all too well, the look that said ‘You’re going to regret that’. Sure enough, as soon as he’d turned round and seen the way Ramsay was looking at him, all the colour drained out of his face and he turned round quickly.

As soon as he’d heard they heavy door swing closed, Ramsay swung his fist into the closest bin with all his strength, regretting it immediately as pain shot through his hand. Gritting his teeth, he shook his hand out. Theon was going to really regret this, perhaps another broken finger or a concussion would teach him, seeing as he was too stupid to learn the first time.

He leant on the wall, forgetting about his sore hand momentarily and winced. Now he was in an even worse mood than before, were that possible. “Fuck school, fuck Theon, fuck fucking everything” he mumbled angrily to no one in particular.

 

** Theon **

Robb turned to face him. Theon didn’t even meet his eyes. “What the hell is happening Theon? He’s…what he’s doing to you is so wrong!”

Theon lifted his eyes to look at Robb “I-“ he managed to stutter out before closing his mouth again. He was ashamed to tell the truth but he was afraid. Ramsay was nice at first and he didn’t notice the abuse at first. It started as a demand there, a ‘Do what I say’ argument there and before he knew it, Theon was stuck in the endless cycle of abuse.

A month ago, things had gotten really bad. They were both drunk and got into a huge fight, and Theon made the mistake in the heat of the moment, yelling at Ramsay that he was going to leave him and he hated him. Ramsay had taken that very badly, instead of hitting out like he usually did, he flipped out and started screaming about how he knew Theon was just like the rest of them, he knew he’d leave him. That he was going to kill himself for real this time, and before Theon could react, grabbed a knife from the kitchen and locked himself in the bathroom. It had taken Theon half an hour and a panic attack to talk him out of it and afterwards, as they sat together on the cold bathroom floor, both feeling miserable, Ramsay had joked through his tears that they were both as fucked up as each other. Theon was inclined to agree.

“You’re not like him Theon” said Robb gently, as if he could sense the other’s thoughts. “You have your own problems but you let people in, let your friends help instead of shutting everyone out and hurting the ones who do stick around. He’s hurting you because it makes him feel better, maybe he just likes it” Robb paused to shake his head “Or something like that, I don’t know. But what I do know is that people who love each other don’t hurt each other, not like he does.”

Theon thought of Asha. She had always maintained that love hurt, but what did she have to go on? Their parents fucked up marriage and Uncle Euron’s string of lovers? There had to be more than that, more than…this? He had to end it. He didn’t want to end up like his parents. Swallowing, he looked at Robb. “But…” his voice dropped “I don’t want to end up alone”

“You’ll never end up alone!” stated Robb fiercely. “Not as long as I’m on this planet. Why do you think our parents fostered you? They wanted you to live a life with people who care about you, not spend a life waiting for the pricks that dumped you in care!”

Robb stopped there, looking and feeling like he’d said too much. Theon paused for a moment. He said our, Theon realised. Our parents. His face broke into a grin and he laughed. “Oh Robb, you always know just what to say, come here.” And pulled the other teen into a one armed hug.

“I’ll do it now. Break things off.”

They broke apart and Robb stared, wide eyed. “R-really? Like, today now? You mean it?”

“Yes, I…I can’t be with him and he’s got problems I’m sure I’m making worse…It’s the right thing to do.” The right thing was supposed to be easy wasn’t it? Why did this feel so wrong? Was it the right thing at all? But he couldn’t go on like this. Neither of them could.

He sighed and turned round to face the still open door. Now would be the tricky part. He’d want to do this now so Ramsay wouldn’t hurt him too badly. The bite mark on his neck throbbed and he raised his hand to touch it, softly laughing as he thought about this fucked up situation he’d found himself in. How did he ever think this was normal?

Robb left him with a nod, so he walked out of the doors to see Ramsay, standing with his hands and forearms leaning up against the wall, probably trying to calm himself. “Ramsay!” called Theon from the top of the outdoor stairs causing him to look up. He still looked pretty mad thought Theon, but this had to be done.

“It’s fucked up, this isn’t it? You can’t do without someone to take out your anger on, to have as someone you can control. That’s what you want. And you thought…that all I wanted was to make everyone like me, and that’s true, it’s one of my many flaws. But if all I get from you liking- or loving me is a black eye and constant anxiety and stress then…maybe I should remember that not everyone can like me.”

Ramsay blinked, “What are you saying? If you’re-“

“I am.” interrupted Theon. He could see how enraged Ramsay became at that.

“Don’t interrupt me Theon.” He replied with a dangerous sounding voice. “If Robb made you think that you have to dump me don’t listen. He’s controlling you, he’s-“

“Not controlling me, that’s what you’re doing!” Theon exclaimed, his voice rising in volume

“I SAID don’t fucking interrupt me” snapped Ramsay, loudly

Theon started to waver, he could fix this, he could say he was sorry, Ramsay would surely punish him but…no, not again, that wasn’t normal, he didn’t want that, the longer this went on for, the worse it would get. How could he live like this for the rest of his life? His legs felt like jelly but somehow he stood his ground.

“I won’t. I won’t interrupt you ever again because I’m not going to be having any more conversations with you. Me and you. Us. We’re…” He swallowed “We’re through.” The words left a bitter taste in his mouth

“You…you can’t.” Spluttered Ramsay. He was starting to look upset, his anger ebbing away quickly.

“I have to.” Replied Theon. He turned and walked away.

“Theon…please.” Pleaded Ramsay. Theon turned. Ramsay had unshed tears in his eyes, clearly he hadn’t realized how much he’d felt for Theon underneath his desire to control and hurt, and he couldn’t stand it. Without realizing, he’d willingly walked right into the very thing he’d always carefully avoided and he hated himself for it.

Theon felt his heart break a tiny bit, as much as the relationship hurt him, seeing Ramsay upset was emotional for him. Suddenly he wanted to go to Ramsay, to cling to him and tell him he didn’t mean it, he would always be there. He forced the feeling away, turned and walked through the door.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been half a year since Theon had ditched him like a bag of garbage or a pet he didn’t care about anymore. Or at least that was how Ramsay saw it. The day it happened, he had left school, and no one had seen him for three days. He’d come home to a furious father, but it was Domeric who was the most angry. “Where the HELL were you, we’ve been worried sick, what the fuck do you think you’re playing at?” When Ramsay went to walk away Domeric had grabbed his arm, making him wince. Domeric had known what he’d done and his angry gazed softened. He had pulled Ramsay to him, the younger teen breaking down and telling him everything that had happened, his breakup with Theon, how he’d left school, gone to a ‘friends’ house, spent the next three days wallowing in self loathing and when he’d asked for a razor…the guy gave it to him, with no idea of what he was going to do with it. Domeric had made him promise to never hurt himself again, and he’d done well, sure he’d relapsed once or twice, but the cuts on his arms from that night had long healed and he felt better for it.

He’d gone to a house party last night as he was wont to do. It was another bad coping mechanism to forget about his problems, he smoked weed, drank too much and hurt himself. Drinking and staying up all night was his current vice, at least that was somewhat socially acceptable, more so than the other two. This morning though, would be the worst of his life.

Squinting at the brightness of his phone, Ramsay sat up, disorientated. 

““Dad calling” read the screen. Through the haze of sleep Ramsay wondered what he wanted, Roose never called anyone unless it was really important. Answering his phone he grunted out in irritation “hello?”  
“Ramsay?” came the reply. His dad sounded strange, weary almost. “Listen, I have some…bad news to tell you.” Ramsay heard his dad pause and sigh.

"What?" demanded Ramsay, sounding a little more irritated than he'd intended, tapping his fingers on the table next to him impatiently

“It’s Domeric…he…got into a car accident and…” His father broke off.

Ramsay swallowed, feeling a wave of nauseous anxiety setting in already. He’d never heard his father sound so unsure, so hesitant. Shit, what if Domeric was really hurt?   
“And?” replied Ramsay “what happened, is he ok? Did he total the car or something?”

“Ramsay…Domeric, he…he's in a coma.”

Ramsay lost his grip on the phone and dropped it onto the floor. There was a cloudy haze around his head, Domeric, in a coma? This had to be a joke, some kind of sick joke or nightmare. He needed some fresh air. He rose to his feet much too quickly, his head spun and he stumbled. Fumbling over to the back door he pulled it open. Sitting down on a wooden bench and breathed in the cool morning air, he tried very hard to not to break down and hyperventilate like he wanted to. He was still suffering the effects of drinking too much and sleeping too little and it made everything so much worse. Could he be dreaming? Maybe? Come to think of it the sky looked a bit weird. Maybe this wasnt really happening and he was still asleep. He pinched his arm hard.

Then, the reality of the situation hit him. This was real, Domeric was dying, the one person who was always there for him, the one person who’d stuck by him all those years, was in a coma and could be gone forever. The one person who he trusted, who cared about him- genuinely cared about him. Ramsay had taken him for granted, maybe he could have taken Domeric’s advice, gone to a therapist about his personal issues, and resolved his pent up anger and frustration. But he hadn’t and he’d made Domeric worry about him and play a father role he never signed up for. He wanted to go and tell Domeric he was sorry, for everything, everything that he put his older brother through. But Domeric was lying in hospital and Ramsay might never see him again. He wanted to scream and smash the entire house that lay behind him. The irony of the situation didn’t escape him, the straight A, home before midnight, never drinking too much, safety first student was in a coma, while the drinking too much, smoking, couldn’t care less, fucked up, suicidal teenager was perfectly fine. In what kind of fucking world did that make sense? He felt a giggle rise up. He stood, but lost his balance and fell backwards onto the damp grass. He rolled onto his back and stared at the morning sky. He could hear laughing, and wondered where it was coming from but realised it was coming from himself, laughing uncontrollably, with tears streaming down his face.  
He must look fucking mental, he thought briefly but he couldn’t stop, not when his entire world had been ripped in half.

Hearing the door open, he looked up and saw a a girl standing at the open door. She was named Pia, he remembered and he'd met a few times, made friends with her even. He was impressed with her tolerance to alcohol and how she drank damon under the table one night and she liked how he could always get her weed. However now, she looked shocked, seemingly rooted to the spot staring at him.   
Ramsay leant up on his elbows and tried to speak but all he managed was a strangled sob, which seemed to kick Pia's brain into gear.

"Seven hells are you alright?" she gasped, going over to kneel beside him

"Mmmm...m'ok" Ramsay choked, although he probably wasnt fooling anyone

Trying to catch his breath, he staggered to his feet. Pia, almost as if she sensed what he was abouut to do, seized his arm. "No, you're not leaving now" she ordered, although her voice sounded panicked.  
Pulling away from her, Ramsay went back into the house, bending down to pick up his phone briefly and made for the front door, ignoring her protests. He stopped outside and debated what he should do next. He was still trying to still his erratic breathing and stop his hands from shaking. Was he ok to drive? He didn't want anyone else seeing him like this. Besides, Domeric wasn't actually dead was he? What if he needed someone to talk to him, to bring him back? Making his mind up he jumped into his car and sped off towards the hospital, praying that it was a mistake, his brother was only in a coma, people woke up from those all the time.

********************************************

Ten minutes later Ramsay sprinted in to the hospital, having run a red light and parked over two spaces in the parking lot. Gasping, he practically yelled Domerics name at the stunned receptionist who asked him who he was.

"I'm his fuc-" Ramsay stopped and tried his best to collect himself "I'm his brother, I need to know where he is, NOW"

"Well let me see now...Bolton...yes, he's been transferred to the long stay ward, room 401" She pointed down a corridor on his left.

Ramsay breathed a sign of relief. He's been transferred from ICU, that was something. Not even saying thanks to the receptionist, he ran down the corridor to find the room where his brother was, thankfully, still alive.  
Reaching the end of the corridor he reached a waiting area where a nurse was wheeling supplies out of a room with a small cart. She smiled at him and he decided it best he ask her where he was going. "Where's room 401" he blurted out bluntly "My brothers there."

She nodded down another corridor. "It's down there-" and before she had finished her sentence he was off again.

Where was it? 397, 398, 399...

He was stopped in his tracks by a familiar figure in front of him, his father. But if Domeric was in there then why was his father out here instead of...?

As if to answer that question his father shook his head.

Ramsay felt all the blood drain out of his face and he knew he'd gone white. Dizzied, and stunned by the news, he felt his legs give way and he collapsed onto the ground.


End file.
